One of Those Things
by Wolfsong's Rebel
Summary: Gage, Sydney, Walker, and Trivette go to a kareokee bar. Something happens between GS


I really need to stop listening to music. Yes, another story inspired by a song. And, yes, it's Brad Paisley. There's not much of the song in this one though, so if you don't know it, I don't know what to tell ya. Get the CD, maybe. The song is called 'Don't Breathe'. It's very good. On to the story.  
  
One of Those Things Wolfsong  
  
It had been a long day fighting crime. After checking out a call from an onymous tipster, the rangers of Company B had busted several small meth labs. Evidence collected there pointed towards another, larger lab. Full force, the rangers ran in, guns ready. After several fights, the druglords were cuffed and driven away in a squad van. The rangers on the bust were given the rest of the day off to relax from their battles.  
  
Rangers Walker, Trivette, Cooke, and Gage had left together in Jimmy's and Gage's cars, heading towards a new club close to headquarters. It was suppose to be very good according to the review in the paper. None of them felt like going anywhere far, so it seemed like a good idea.  
  
They headed out, two by two, now dressed in casual clothes. Parking across the street, they three men and the dark haired lady walked over and entered. A dark room with many colored globes hanging from the ceiling filled the interior. A small stage that looked to occasionally hold a band was near the back by the restrooms. Smoke filled the air around them, and soft country music made up the background. They sat at the bar, ordered their beers and talked about their day.  
  
Several beers and many laughs later, they came to discover it was near nine in the evening. Having only one drink himself, Walker knew it was time for him to get home. "Well, guys, it's been fun, but I need to get home. Alex'll have my hide. Come on, Trivette." The older ranger encouraged, dragging his friend from the bar. "I'll take him home first." He informed then waved bye.  
  
When they were gone, Gage turned to Sydney saying, "I wonder how. They came in Jimmy's car."  
  
"Maybe Walker will drive back to HQ and get the pick-up." She replied back, sitting her second beer down next to Jimmy's three. Soft music. Someone climbed onto the stage and started singing. Gage watched Sydney as she concentrated on the small stage. He loved to watch her. The way she would make faces at something funny or if something smelt bad. Her smile always caught and held his breath, never letting go. They way her long hair would bounce when she walked.  
  
He had been content to just watch. Either to protect her, or just because he could easily become lost in her. Lately, though, it seemed that watching wasn't enough. He wanted to feel the soft hair in his hands, run his fingers lovingly through the dark locks. To hold her small, but not delicate body next to his. To taste those lips. These feelings, he lied to himself, had just started.  
  
During another large fight with crack druglords, she had been taken captive, held at knife point. He had turned for one second, and the leader had grabbed her, threatening to slit her throat. Gage had tried reasoning with the man, but to no avail. It eventually lead to Gage laying down his pistol, something he was taught not to do in a hostage situation. But he had, and it had almost cost him something valuable. Her.  
  
Before Walker had knocked the man out, he had began a slit down the left side of Sydney's throat. Thankfully, it wasn't deep, though required a few small stitches. She still wore the scar, never hiding it. Small, but a constant reminder of what could have gone worse.  
  
That night at her place, after driving her home, he had told her his fears of those moments seeing the blade against her soft skin. She had laughed, a small uncomfortable laugh cut short, and had blamed the words he said on him feeling guilty. He tried to explain that it wasn't the guilt he was feeling. She had asked, "Then what is it you're feeling?"  
  
"I don't know for sure." he had answered. "You'll be the first to find out though." and dismissed it with a laugh.  
  
"I won't hold my breath." she had said dismissing it as well.  
  
Sitting here now, he knew exactly what he had been feeling, but would she believe him? For several days he had wanted to tell her, though unsure how. An announcement for anyone wanting to perform kareokee to come up came on. He found himself on his feet, moving slowly towards the stage. Climbing it, he took the microphone, automatically told the musicians the tune, and faced the front.  
  
She heard, but didn't believe. She hadn't even noticed him get up. She had been looking for others heading towards the stage. She was lost now in the sight of her partner up on stage, microphone in hand, lost in his eyes. When he began speaking, his voice broke through her thoughts. "This is one of my favorite songs. It...uh, it describes the way I feel sometimes." He turned and looked straight into her eyes and began.  
  
Where she had been expecting a quick song of happiness she found an up-beat song of pain and rejection. His smooth voice went on into the chorus.  
  
It's like sayin' don't breathe  
Or don't blink  
Well darlin' I don't think you understand  
See, I can't just turn this off  
It's like sayin' don't eat  
Or don't sleep  
Out love's just  
One of those things  
That I've gotten used to doin'  
Way too long  
  
How did this song apply to him? She thought. She had heard him listening to it in his car before. The song was about a couple who had been together, and decided to call it off. He kept staring at her. No one else. Just her. It can't be us. She thought. We've never been a couple. He kept singing. At least she had never thought them to be couple. Partners. Without a doubt. Friends. definitely. They hung out all the time. Told each other everything, almost. Respected it when the other had a date, and only asked questions when it seemed right. They were close.  
  
But did he see something more? Could there be more? No. The rules said there couldn't be. And if they did and something happened, could she stand living without her best friend. Without him?  
  
The song ended. His voice faded. She watched him hand off the mike to a younger boy, anxious to perform. She watched as he strode over to the bar, pay the bill, and never fully realized when he had led her out of the car and had stopped in front of the ranger station. Parked next to her car, they sat, listening to the other's breathing. Silently enjoying it. He sighed, deep and worried.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked out of instinct.  
  
Another sigh, even deeper.  
  
"Gage, what's wrong?" she asked touching the top of his hand.  
  
"Syd," he started. "What is this?"  
  
"What's what?"  
  
"This. Between us. This thing between us." He was starting to sound frustrated.  
  
"I didn't know there was a thing between us."  
  
"Maybe that's the problem." he said getting out of the car. She followed.  
  
"Gage, what problem? I don't see any problems between us."  
  
"That's because, Syd," he said standing near the steps, "you won't let yourself see it." He sat down, hands on his face.  
  
"See what, Gage?" she stood in front of him.  
  
He looked up to her. "We're great friends, right?" "The best."  
  
"We're great partners." She shook her head. "There's something between us, Syd, that makes us great partners, great friends. Why can't that something make us more?"  
  
She stared down deep into his soft eyes. Wondering why she hadn't acknowledged this connection herself. She wanted to tell him, instead she crouched down, placed a hand gently on his knee, and said, "What if it has?" Yes. She thought, finally able to get her thoughts into words. He just looked at her, their eyes locked. "Gage," she said as he stood, taking her with him. He leaned over, his hands playing with the hair on her shoulders. "Breathe." he said as his lips fell on her.  
  
At first she welcomed it, then panic taking over, she pushed him back and walked away. "What?" he asked in a whisper.  
  
"Gage, we're drunk. Both of us. We...I don't want to regret this."  
  
"You're wrong, Syd." He closed the distance between them. "I'm not drunk. You're not drunk."  
  
"We both had at least two beers, probably more."  
  
He hushed her with his fingers. "How do you think Jimmy got so drunk?" His smile was evil. "Every drink you ordered I slide over to him." She tossed him a questioning look. "I only had one." He rubbed a thumb over the scar, feeling it below his rough skin. "I love you, Sydney. I'm sorry this happened. I promised it won't happen again." He looked into her eyes, full of tears. "Say it, Syd."  
  
"Don't breathe."  
  
"I can't do that." With that, she leaned closer and kissed him. Startled at first, he didn't believe it. Then, feeling the fire in her lips he quickly and fiercely replied, matching her passion for passion. It lasted for what seemed like minutes them broke too suddenly for both, though they needed air. He looked down to her lovingly, knowing she would never again hide how she felt for him. For it matched his own love. Before kissing her again, he said softly next to her lips, "Our love's just one of those things."  
  
The End 


End file.
